Description
An unseemly stench of unwashed bodies, sewage, litter, and other unpleasant things assails one's nose here. The cramped, twisted streets of the Undercity are almost reminiscent of the pens of an abbatoir, and, indeed, there are mysterious red marks not too different from that of blood here and there. The buildings here look as like to crumble any moment. Some are leaning precariously, propped up with blocks of stone and timbers. Others are so heavily built-over with crude timber, that they can barely be perceived under the wood. It is always wet in this low lying area, and the tops of the overcrowded buildings so close together that the sunlight barely reaches through.
Poxy whores, sellswords, thieves, footpads, cutpurses, hedge wizards, robber knights, pirates, and pickpockets roam the claustrophobic little streets, on the prowl for coin, an unsuspecting victim from the city proper, or merely the next big adventure. There is a throng of smallfolk all about the gateway to the Thieves' Market. There are very few City Watchmen here, and when there are, they travel in a tight, almost phalanx-like formation, shield to shield, spears out and at the ready.
Exits
- Bawdy Bard [BB]
- Tooth and Nail [TN]
- Ragpickers' Wynd [S]
- Thieves' Market [E]